


Unsafe, Unsound

by BlackBat09, ind1go_ink



Series: Fear No Dark [2]
Category: Lazer Team (2015)
Genre: Angst, Body Horror, Gen, Monster!AU, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 08:36:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6510811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackBat09/pseuds/BlackBat09, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ind1go_ink/pseuds/ind1go_ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Bigger ups to RashAsher than they gave me for supporting all of my sad Zach shit, not just my little additions to this lovely AU. Hopefully my part is as awesome as theirs. ^-^</p>
    </blockquote>





	Unsafe, Unsound

**Author's Note:**

> Bigger ups to RashAsher than they gave me for supporting all of my sad Zach shit, not just my little additions to this lovely AU. Hopefully my part is as awesome as theirs. ^-^

Zach _trusts_ Woody. 

He has no reason not to, having grown up watching the older kid. People around town had whispered awful things about him, the other kids throwing insults at him, and Zach’s own mother had just called Woody _simple_ when Zach asked why people were so mean.

Zach had gotten mean after a while. He knew it, too, watching himself torment Woody, who tried so hard and was so kind, but ever since junior high, Zach had whispers aimed at him, too, _idiot_ and _stupid_ and eventually _dumb jock_ , and he did what he felt to had to in order to make sure people loved him, even if that included hurting Woody. And Woody had _taken it_ , all with a smile and a pleasant demeanor that made Zach think him kind, trustworthy.

When he’s coherent, Zach wonders if this is payback.

* * *

 

Herman comes to Woody, trying to talk with him, appeal to a boy long gone, swallowed up by an enhancing helmet and years of torment. As they talk, Zach cowers in his cell, Woody’s loud growls and cold laughter hitting him in the chest and the gut, filling his body with icy fear and the urge to run. Woody is a _predator,_  his animal mind hisses, and Zach is struck by how bizarre it seems: Woody is 100 pounds soaking wet, frequently trips over his own feet, and has the _helmet_ piece of the suit, for fuck’s sake. Zach has been jokingly told for years that he’s an alpha male, a predator, a monster, and he’s got a _gun_ attached to his _arm_ -

But look what Woody did. Look what Woody turned him into. It’s not strength that makes Woody a danger, a predator, he realizes: it’s his _intelligence,_ and the power he can wield because of it.

The power to make Zach a monster. A _freak_.

He’s still reeling from the knowledge, whines scraping out of his throat, when he realizes there’s someone at the cell bars.

“Kid? ...Zach?”

A startled yip leaves him as Zach scrambles back, away from the bars and towards the cold cinder block wall behind him, the scrape of his claws- fucking _claws_ , Zach could cry- against the concrete floor assaulting his sensitive ears, making him whine again and shake his head. Even his head feels off, elongated into a snout and changing the way it moves in space; the only thing that stayed the same, perfectly intact, is the fucking cannon that Zach so hates. He reaches up with his hand _paw_ **_hand_ ** to claw at his ears, his face, a quick zip of flesh and the feeling of blood dripping across his snout letting him know just how sharp his new parts are.

“Zach, stop!” The yell makes him freeze, whimpering, ears ringing from the loud noise as he looks up in a daze, sniffing to try and find some sort of comforting scent beyond the hot-copper-iron-metal smell of blood. He swallows when he finds it, whimpering again and ducking his head in shame as his hand _paw_ covers his face _muzzle_.

Of all the people, Hagan had to see him like this. A fucked-up product of his own stupidity, his blind trust.

“Zach- kid, please. Don’t hurt yourself. Can you- can you come closer? They won’t let me in the cell,” the cop murmurs, and Zach tries to shout _good_ , but it comes out as a gravelly bark that makes him flinch. He can hardly speak and he hates it: Woody’s concoction had felt like it burned his throat on the way down, and now his voice sounds that way when he pieces together human words, tries to explain himself to Hagan.

“Don’t want you to see,” he admits, throat aching from one fucking sentence. “Stupid. Hurts. _Freak_.” Why he mentioned that it hurt, Zach’s not sure, but he’s not lying: his muscles ache from being twisted into new positions, his bones hurt from having to shift and grow, and some of them protrude in a way that makes them rub uncomfortably, nauseatingly, at the inside of his skin or even grind together when he moves.

Woody called them _ultimate predators_ , but whatever he’d given Zach and the poison from Zach’s teeth that had turned Woody were obviously very different, because Zach doesn’t feel _ultimate_ in any way that’s good.

“I’m so sorry, Zach.” He lets his paw fall, eyes seeking out Hagan, standing in the brightly lit hallway of the brig with a frown on his face, and immediately wants to hide again. _Disappointment. Annoyance. Anger._ His brain chants the words and he whines behind grit teeth, the tight clench of his jaw painful as he watches Hagan’s face fall even more. “Kid, I’m not upset. This isn’t- it’s not your fault. None of us would’ve expected this from Woody.”

The other boy growls in his cell, another loud, rumbling sound that makes Zach’s ears flatten, makes his brain scream _PREDATOR,_ but Hagan turns over his shoulder and snaps, “You shut the hell up, you’re lucky you and Zach are still alive after that garbage,” and Zach feels safer. Defended. Protected.

Woody can’t hurt him in a separate cell, he tells himself, and so Zach creeps forward, closer to the bars, and lets Hagan have a look at him.

There’s shock, of course, and a flash of fear, but mostly Hagan seems _sad_ as he looks up at Zach (and isn’t that a thing, Hagan having to look up at Zach instead of the other way around?). “I’m sorry,” the man repeats, hushed, and Zach dips his head, a low, mournful sound escaping him. It’s not Hagan’s fault, he knows it, but he lets the man apologize anyway.

His eyes are shut, avoiding the sadness on Hagan’s face, when something touches him: a human hand, a _normal_ hand, broad and slightly rough with callouses, laid against his furred head. Hagan’s touching him, Zach realizes even before he lets his eyes open. It’s gentle and grounding and helps to quiet the thought that the team leader is _angry_ with him for this.

“We’re gonna try to fix this, Zach,” he reassures him softly. “The military’s got plenty of people, doctors and biologists and- chemistry people and shit, whatever they need to get you back to yourself.” His hand moves, gently petting Zach, and while the kid doesn’t like being treated like an animal, it’s soothing enough that he lets it slide. “I know it sucks and I know it hurts, but hold out, kid. We’ll get you back to normal.”

The moment is nice until Woody laughs, painfully loud in Zach’s ears, and starts hissing in the monstrous language that their vocal cords are now shaped for, the one only they can understand.

“I’d love to see them try. None of them have my expertise, and I’m certainly not going to share my research,” he spits, smug and sharp. “Enjoy Hagan’s pretty speeches all you want, but this is how it is now, Zachary. You and me, love. In it together.”

Zach’s malformed shoulders shake as he backs away from the cell bars and Hagan’s touch, mournful whines escaping him as he sinks to the cold floor.

Zach will take any cure he can get. Even a bullet to the head.


End file.
